Eulogy
by Wolfserpent
Summary: Set several years after the series' end, Knives reflects on the life and death of his most beloved servant.


Eulogy  
  
  
  
  
I remember the day I met you as clearly as though it were this morning.  
  
You were the fat kid that everybody picked on and jeered at and hated because you were an easy scapegoat. Your family was poor, and your clothes were ragged, and they couldn't afford much water, so you didn't bathe as much as you should have. Their parents always talked about "that stupid, fat kid" and since humans are so incapable of thinking for themselves, those kids threw rocks at you and told you they were going to kill and eat you like the pig that you were.  
  
I happened to be out traveling that day. Fate must have intervened, because I rarely left my Plant, as you well know.  
  
I watched intently as those children laughed at your plight, mocked you, went to hurt you. A rock hit you on the forehead. It left a bloody gash.  
  
You didn't give them the satisfaction of watching you cry. You sucked it up and stumbled away.  
  
I killed those boys for you. Did I ever tell you that? As soon as you were out of sight and they were back to playing in the deserted street, I walked over those boys. I grabbed one by the head and lifted him up off of the ground, kicking and screaming. I made an example out of him. As his friends watched in silent horror, his head exploded in my grasp. Brain matter, blood and fragments of skull rained to the sand, followed closely by the rest of his body. The other boys met similar fates. To this day, I wonder what explanation was given to their dismayed parents...  
  
I only wish you'd been there to watch. Death always brought you such happiness. You knew, even then, that human life was a waste of protein. That you and all those around you ought to be destroyed.  
  
I found you the next day. I went over to you and placed my hand over the angry, bloody, jagged cut and it vanished. I asked what your name was.  
  
You replied, "Legato Bluesummers, Sir."  
  
"My name is Knives Millions. Do you know who I am?"  
  
You shook your head. But you replied, "I know you're not human."  
  
I smiled. "Very perceptive. Are you afraid of me?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Do you think that I could destroy this world?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Do you think that I SHOULD?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
I smirked. Those golden eyes of yours were flat and brooding even then, beneath that mop of pale blue hair.  
  
"Do you think that I'm going to kill you?"  
  
"No."  
  
"No?"  
  
I frowned. That was not the answer I had expected from you, my little sycophant.p  
  
"You won't kill me, because I'll kill for you. I'll kill every human on this planet, Mr. Millions, because I hate them, too."  
  
I'll kill for you.  
  
I grinned. I ruffled your metallic locks. I drew your head to rest on my stomach, pleased to have met someone so full of anger and violence and hatred towards the same parasites I myself hated.  
  
You and I returned to my Plant. I made you exercise endlessly, half-starved you, until you became the wiry, muscular youth you'd always wanted to be. And as you hit puberty, that body of yours only grew more and more aesthetically pleasing to me. What a gorgeous man you were becoming. Tall and cut and almost hairless. Beautiful.  
  
Only fifteen years old, and already you were murdering people, making allies with others who were as demented as yourself, who longed for human extinction.  
  
And then I blew off my brother's arm, and offered you the powers of a Plant. I offered you incredible metaphysical strength in exchange for the moment of pain it would take to slice off one of your arms.  
  
You nodded. You unbelted a knife from the inner folds of your coat and handed it to me, wordlessly rolling up your left sleeve.  
  
And I hacked your arm off.  
  
You took it, as always, stoically. Not a word, not a tear escaped you. Blood gushed out of the wound with every beat of your heart, landing on the pristine floor of my Plant, pooling into a dark, shining river.  
  
I held the alien arm up to your gaping wound. I jolted it back to life. Muscle and nerve and bone and tendon all began growing anew, twirling up to meet the ragged, bloody stump of your shoulder.  
  
You watched silently. Once all the holes had closed up, you clenched and relaxed your hand.  
  
"Thank you, Master."  
  
You bowed to me, folding the arm over your chest.  
  
I caught you as you stood back up. Placed my hands on your shoulders. Your golden eyes were so cold and far away, it felt as though I was the only one in the room. That you were nothing but a mannequin.  
  
"Legato..." I murmured, and I kissed you on the lips.  
  
No response.  
  
"Legato..."  
  
I embraced you, in the way that lovers embrace. You were more to me, at that moment, than just a slave. You were a living thing.  
  
"Master..." you whispered, finally turning those eyes upon me, mouth pensive.  
  
"You've been a good servant to me, Legato. And now I will give you your reward."  
  
I kissed you on the mouth again, pushing you lightly against the glassy wall of the Plant. You returned the kiss, running your hands through my hair, but your motions felt forced and stiff. You were on guard the whole time I made love to you, my most faithful servant. Naked and vulnerable, you let yourself be had as though there was no other alternative.  
  
Which, I suppose, there wasn't. Yet it puzzled me that one so deeply devoted to me would not enjoy so intimate a display of affection.  
  
I didn't learn until later that you liked little children. That you liked to torture them sexually, in return for the angst those children caused you so long ago. They got off on throwing rocks at you and damaging your ego and calling you a pig; you got off by raping them and sodomizing them and laughing as they screamed and cried. You taught them the pain of living. You scared them away from ever procreating normally.  
  
But you continued to let yourself be used by me. When I needed an outlet for my frustrations, you were my whipping boy. When I needed to fulfill that most base of physiological urges, you were my sex toy.  
  
You were, Legato, my most treasured possession.  
  
And then Vash killed you.  
  
That was your role, and the mission of the Gung-Ho Guns in the first place.  
  
Make my brother take a life. Make him see the folly in that idiot woman's words.  
  
You died happy, my darling. You achieved your greatest goal- getting Vash to kill.  
  
And then you exited this dry and barren place, as you believed all humans should, and went to wherever it is that we go when we die. Heaven, or Hell, or perhaps back into nonexistence.  
  
My dutiful, loyal Legato. My tall and slender, evil-eyed Legato. The only human who I ever felt a closeness to, and who I lost. Forever. I lost you to that inescapable abyss to which all lives are lost, human or otherwise. You did not live to see me join humanity. To see me find myself swayed to my idiot brother's side; to watch him impregnate the human he called wife and create another Rem.  
  
I think it would have appalled you to see the way I wept joyfully over Rem Augusta Millions. To see so much love and emotion showered on something half-human.  
  
But I never told you, my darling. About that horrid little secret which I harbor. About the reason that my brother and I can walk amongst humans unnoticed, can impregnate them, can impersonate them so well.  
  
Vash and I, my darling Legato, are partly human ourselves.  
  
Knowing this, would you have been so loyal to me? No. Because you could not even come to terms with the human in your own blood. I loved you, Legato. I truly loved you. And so I gladly gave you up to that abyss. You would not have been happy to stay here with me on this mortal coil. You hated life, and living brought you nothing but pain.  
  
You are happy wherever you are, Legato. The humanity has all left you now.  
  
And, my golden-eyed darling, I would not have you any other way...  
  
  
  
  
  
Trigun copyright Pioneer Entertainment, Inc.  
  
  
"Eulogy" copyright R. Pingitore, 2001. 


End file.
